I want to start off on the topic of birthdays. More specifically, Grandparents sending money.
Even more specifically, the lack thereof in my case.
You see, I hardly know my Maternal grandparents, so they don't send me anything.
My paternal grandparents, who have multi-millions, cover us.
Or, rather, my "Family."
I understand why my "sister" gets $300.00 every now and again, because she's in college. Same with my "brother". And he just got engaged, so they gave him a little bonus.
My "oldest brother", when he got married, was given a grand.
When "my second oldest" went into the Marine Corps., he got $800.
Which comes down to me.
Now, don't get me wrong, I at least get some mention of being in the family. I enjoy that.
But with a three year old and five year old getting $300 a month, due to their birthdays being mere DAYS from christmas, that's drawing the line.
I get MAYBE $40 on a GOOD year.
Which brings me to part two, My "Mother's" take on my money.
I swear, whenever I get money, she uses some lame-ass excuse to get it from me.
wrote:There's the stick, okay, the stick you just barely ordered. There's that box we bought yesterday, plus those three stuffed animals. Twenty, plus five, plus two. That's at least forty dollars... then there's that plushie you bought last month. Rainbow Dash, right? Fifty bucks. You owe me.
Okay, the "Rainbow Dash" plushie she was talking about was really Twilight Sparkle. And the "Fifty Bucks" was really $35.76. She bought that for me for one of my birthday presents.
Then, her bullshit with the stuff I bought the other day. I paid for the box myself, as well as the "three stuffed animals". A robin hood plush, and a Spirit plush. I'm going to send the robin hood off, and I'm going to dissect the Spirit plush to make a pattern for some plushies for friends. Those cost me $.99
And, when I was preparing one of our rooms, she comes in, sits on the bed and is all
I told her, and she just jumped down my throat, accusing me of "providing room and board for complete strangers without her approval."
One, I told her of the plans before I offered.
Two, she'll invite her prissy little friends over for no damn reason, and expect me to sleep on the couch. Which is why I got a bunk bed. So her eighty year old friends can't sleep on it.
and three, My friends are not "complete strangers" I talk about you guys more than I talk about IRL friends. Sure, we may never know what the other sounds like, but you all have the honour of being called my friends. Which is why I want to help any of you guys when you need it.
But does anyone in my bleeding house believe that?
They think that just because I enjoy a "kid's show for little girls", I'm fucking insane!
Well, hell to ya, my crazy family!
Mother: Seven heart attacks and two strokes that render half her brain dysfunctional.
Father: Diabetic that "needs" sugar every now and again or he'll be a pain in the arse until he gets it.
Oldest brother: Married to a fat cow who takes her kids to McDonald's every meal, goes out partying with her friends every other night, never makes house payments, then curses the world out because she's moved TWENTY-SEVEN times in the past five years.
Second Oldest: Has Asperger's Syndrome. He'll be all fine and your friend one minute, then ripping you to shreds the next. No wonder he's still living with us.
Third oldest: Computer nerd. As such, if I call him up with a problem, he'll chew my head off for downloading a virus on my computer, then not give me some anti-viral software for the bugs I contract just doing normal stuff.
Sister: Only person who cares. But she's always 700 miles away at school. See her MAYBE once a month.
five-year-old niece: Spoiled-ass rotten. Remember that Twilight plushie? Well, I had her safely on my bed, away from anything. They come over, she takes one look at her, and immediately says, "Purple horses are my favorite! Can I have that purple horse Jojo?"
And naturally, she goes crying off to Mommy, who barges in like she's in a James Bond movie, demands that I give her something that is precious to me, then expects wings to erupt from her back, a small glow to encircle her head, and a heavenly chorus to strike as she stands there in my doorway, trying to get my Twilight away from me.
Thanks for reading this far, I'm almost done.
My mom took me in to get blood-tested, and I swear that girl had no idea what she was doing.
I have a fear and obscene fear of needles, so when this girl takes the needle, stabs it into my arm, then moves it around trying to find the vein, I'm bleeding from the lips trying not to scream. And my mom's all,
"Oh, it's not to bad."
And later, I came down with the flu. What do they do? They take a friggin' neddle the size of a Volvo, shove it in my arm, while I'm in pain from the flu, and expect me ti suck up.
I screamed, then cried like a baby,I will admit that now. My mom buries her face in her hands, and when the nurse leaves, she asks me why I have a fear of needles.
Why do you have a fear of spiders? Or shadow? Or black?
When people say you choose your family before you're born, I must have been fucking high to choose this one.
Thanks for listening, RyDer out.